


The Imp’s bad day

by Apple_Queen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Queen/pseuds/Apple_Queen
Summary: Tyrion put his hands over his face, how had his day ended up like this? He was hand of the Queen, he shouldn’t be hiding under tables listening to people kissing.





	The Imp’s bad day

Spending the last 10 years as the imp, even if he now considered himself somewhat of a reformed imp, meant that Tyrion was very used to being the subject of gossip. Usually, he had at least an inkling of what the gossips were saying. But on this occasion, he was perplexed to say the least. 

Since his breakfast that morning of eggs and burnt toast, the whispers with an occasional discernible “Lannister” and sudden silences had only increased, leaving Tyrion determined to find out what he had done this time. But doing so was proving harder than he’d anticipated. He assumed that it was because Winterfell was still very much split into northerners and newcomers and he wasn’t trusted by the one and not quite accepted by the other, that nobody seemed to want to tell him. Tyrion was starting to consider demeaning himself by hiding somewhere to listen in, one of the only benefits of being so short being the ease at which he’d be able to do so, when he chanced across Bronn and Pod with their heads together. Considering Bronn had only arrived the day before, Tyrion was surprised to see how much they seemed to have bonded already. But surely they if anyone would tell Tyrion what was going on.

Tyrion had learnt not to underestimate the importance of small talk when trying to carry out a subtle interrogation. So he made sure to comment on the weather, their remaining food rations and the contents of the armoury before bringing up what he actually wanted to know.

“Seems like there’s some news doing the rounds today.” Commented Tyrion casually. Pods lips clammed tightly closed and he gave Tyrion a stricken look, but Bronn gave a dirty sounding chuckle and looked him up and down.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get round to it.”

“Can you blame me for wanting to know why everyone’s talking about me?” Asked Tyrion. Both Bronn and Pod burst into peals of laughter at that.

“It’s not you they’re talking about mate, it’s your brother.” 

“What?!” Tyrion thought back over the week Jaime had spent in Winterfell. It had been fairly unremarkable. Jaime had settled in more easily than Tyrion had predicted, even the taunts of “kingslayer” and “sister fucker” had only lasted a day or two, although that was probably mainly due to Lady Brienne’s raised eyebrow and hand dropping to the hilt of her sword every time they were said in her presence. Jaime himself seemed different too, their relationship wasn’t really repaired enough yet for them to be sharing confidences but Tyrion had assumed finally leaving their poisonous sister had done him good. Still, Tyrion couldn’t quite explain the smile that seemed to keep returning to his brother’s lips unpredictably. What was stranger was that it was Jaime’s genuine smile, and Tyrion couldn’t remember when he’d last seen it- perhaps before Aerys. 

“Word is that he got into a fight with a wildling last night and broke their nose with that ridiculous golden hand of his.”

Tyrion groaned “did the wildling say something about Cersei?”

Bronn guffawed. “Wrong lady! Golden boy’s been pining after a very different blonde for years now! But I suppose you probably haven’t been around either of them enough to have seen it.”

Suddenly everything made sense. The way Jaime always seemed to be looking for someone when he entered a room. The sword Brienne was never seen without. The old smile and the sense of humour Tyrion thought Jaime had lost bursting out more often when she was around. Hard as it was to believe, Jaime had fallen for lady Brienne.

“Everyone’s saying you’re getting a new goodsister soon.”

Tyrion blanched. He hadn’t seen much evidence of Jaime’s regard being returned. But then, Brienne personified stoic. A sensation of panic took root in his belly- what if she said no? Jaime might never smile that smile again!

“Will she have him though?” He asked, mouth dry.

“Well, she wants to fuck him that’s for sure. But then what woman doesn’t want to, lucky bastard...”

“She loves him” piped up Pod suddenly. 

“And what makes you so sure of that Pod?”

“It’s just obvious whenever anyone mentions his name.” 

Tyrion sighed, his albeit unlikely hopes that Brienne had confessed an undying love of his brother to her squire dashed. He was going to have to do something, or he could guarantee that Jaime would either say the wrong thing or, worse, say nothing at all. Surely with all of his knowledge, Tyrion would be capable of nudging them towards each other without their suspecting, he owed his brother that much at least. He wandered off back to his room with an absent minded farewell to his friends to have a long think.

The first plan he made revolved around Jaime. But that had to be scrapped when he saw from his window the man in question chasing after a fleeing but trying to look like she wasn’t fleeing Brienne across the courtyard. Jaime seemed to know what he wanted and be trying, in his rather clumsy way, to get it. Brienne was where the problem was. Tyrion decided that speaking with her should be his first move, which would also allow him to sound out her feelings. He wouldn’t want to be trying to push the two of them together if Pod was wrong and it would be repulsive to the lady. 

Locating the lady was surprisingly difficult. Eventually, he found her in the great hall, eating a solitary bowl of stew with a pensive expression, long after everyone else had left. He quietly approached, not wanting to startle her into running away. But before he had reached her, he heard a clatter behind him and saw Jaime striding in, cloak flapping behind him. 

Tyrion faltered, and decided to give them another chance to sort things out between themselves. He dived under the nearest table before either of them had noticed him, grateful for being so short for the second time that day.

“We have to speak about last night sooner or later.” Growled Jaime, sounding irritated. 

“Fine. Well then Ser, all I have to say is that in future I will thank you to not fight my battles for me.”

“Brienne, you are my wife- I’m going to punch every man I hear making comments like that about you!”

“We agreed to get an annulment, not that I think it was even valid.” Brienne’s voice held a note of sadness.

“I don’t want an annulment! And I for one am glad that Locke didn’t believe me about the sapphires...” A pair of knees appeared on the floor next to Brienne’s feet. “We’ve wasted so much time already, can’t we just try and be happy for whatever time we have left?”

“I don’t understand, why are you joking about this?” Said Brienne in a small voice. 

Silence stretched out, Tyrion desperately wanted to know what was happening but didn’t want to risk being caught. A muffled moan came to his ears. Oh gods, they were kissing... Tyrion put his hands over his face, how had his day ended up like this? He was hand of the Queen, he shouldn’t be hiding under tables listening to people kissing. 

Jaime’s knees pushed their way between Brienne’s legs. Oh no no no, what if they were going to have sex on the table? Tyrion liked sex a lot, what he did not like was the thought of listening to his brother and apparent goodsister have sex above his head. That thought mortified him beyond compare. He tried to reassure himself that surely Brienne wasn’t the sort of woman who would have sex on a table in the great hall where anyone could walk in. A traitorous voice in his head whispered that this had gone on for quite a while already for it not to be heading that way. Jaime’s boots stood up and Tyrion heard a feminine squeak of surprise as Brienne’s boots were pulled up and repositioned dangling from the table, with Jaime taking up position between her knees again. The abandoned bowl of stew smashed to the floor, splattering Tyrion with cold gravy and grease. Tyrion pulled up his knees and rested his head on them, singing a song in his head and trying to imagine he was somewhere, anywhere, else. 

Jaime’s hand appeared, stroking down the outside of Brienne’s leg and sliding into the top of her boot. Oh gods, what if he kneeled down to remove her boots- he’d come face to face with Tyrion! Tyrion was just starting to contemplate crawling out of the great hall in a desperate bid for freedom when his saviour arrived.

“Take it from me, it’s really easy to get splinters in your arse when you fuck on a table.” Came Bronn’s triumphant voice.

Jaime’s legs stumbled backwards and Brienne’s dropped back onto the floor with a thud.

“We weren’t...” replied Brienne, Tyrion could practically hear her blush and could easily imagine the sardonic tilt of Bronn’s eyebrows.

“We were just leaving.” Said Jaime firmly before both pairs of legs shot out of the hall, almost running.

Tyrion tumbled out from under the table as soon as it was safe, brushing the dust from his trousers and taking deep cleansing breaths.

“Bronn, I could kiss you!”

“Please don’t. How about instead you share some of that nice Dornish wine I know you’ve got hidden somewhere and tell me all about how you ended up down there?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I might write a prequel at some point with the wedding, whenever the person growing hormones allow me to write something which isn’t mostly fluff...


End file.
